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- Люси Мод Монтгомери
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- Аня из Зелёных Мезонинов
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- Стр. 10/212
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“
Well
,
whatever
it
was
it
must
have
been
something
nice
because
she
was
divinely
beautiful
.
Have
you
ever
imagined
what
it
must
feel
like
to
be
divinely
beautiful
?
”
“
Well
now
,
no
,
I
haven
’
t
,
”
confessed
Matthew
ingenuously
.
“
I
have
,
often
.
Which
would
you
rather
be
if
you
had
the
choice
—
divinely
beautiful
or
dazzlingly
clever
or
angelically
good
?
”
“
Well
now
,
I
—
I
don
’
t
know
exactly
.
”
“
Neither
do
I
.
I
can
never
decide
.
But
it
doesn
’
t
make
much
real
difference
for
it
isn
’
t
likely
I
’
ll
ever
be
either
.
It
’
s
certain
I
’
ll
never
be
angelically
good
.
Mrs
.
Spencer
says
—
oh
,
Mr
.
Cuthbert
!
Oh
,
Mr
.
Cuthbert
!
!
Oh
,
Mr
.
Cuthbert
!
!
!
”
That
was
not
what
Mrs
.
Spencer
had
said
;
neither
had
the
child
tumbled
out
of
the
buggy
nor
had
Matthew
done
anything
astonishing
.
They
had
simply
rounded
a
curve
in
the
road
and
found
themselves
in
the
“
Avenue
.
”
The
“
Avenue
,
”
so
called
by
the
Newbridge
people
,
was
a
stretch
of
road
four
or
five
hundred
yards
long
,
completely
arched
over
with
huge
,
wide
-
spreading
apple
-
trees
,
planted
years
ago
by
an
eccentric
old
farmer
.
Overhead
was
one
long
canopy
of
snowy
fragrant
bloom
.
Below
the
boughs
the
air
was
full
of
a
purple
twilight
and
far
ahead
a
glimpse
of
painted
sunset
sky
shone
like
a
great
rose
window
at
the
end
of
a
cathedral
aisle
.
Its
beauty
seemed
to
strike
the
child
dumb
.
She
leaned
back
in
the
buggy
,
her
thin
hands
clasped
before
her
,
her
face
lifted
rapturously
to
the
white
splendor
above
.
Even
when
they
had
passed
out
and
were
driving
down
the
long
slope
to
Newbridge
she
never
moved
or
spoke
.
Still
with
rapt
face
she
gazed
afar
into
the
sunset
west
,
with
eyes
that
saw
visions
trooping
splendidly
across
that
glowing
background
.
Through
Newbridge
,
a
bustling
little
village
where
dogs
barked
at
them
and
small
boys
hooted
and
curious
faces
peered
from
the
windows
,
they
drove
,
still
in
silence
.
When
three
more
miles
had
dropped
away
behind
them
the
child
had
not
spoken
.
She
could
keep
silence
,
it
was
evident
,
as
energetically
as
she
could
talk
.
“
I
guess
you
’
re
feeling
pretty
tired
and
hungry
,
”
Matthew
ventured
to
say
at
last
,
accounting
for
her
long
visitation
of
dumbness
with
the
only
reason
he
could
think
of
.
“
But
we
haven
’
t
very
far
to
go
now
—
only
another
mile
.
”
